It Began on Cybertron
by CyberSpyder
Summary: A young predacon orphan is given an agonizing choice. Remain with the ones who destroyed her dream or betray her "honor"? And once she chooses, how will she ever redeem herself for her rebellious nature? Find out...Please R&R.


{Disclaimer: Why do I have to write a disclaimer?? I know and you know that I don't own Beast Wars; if I did I would not be writing a FAN fiction. I do, however, own the character, Arachnitron (and Drifter, but he doesn't show up until the end).}  
  
[Author's Note: Have you ever heard of the parallel universe theory? Well this is kind of how it goes: there are multiple universes and in each one something different happens. When you have a feeling of deja vu it means that your other selves in other universes are doing the exact same thing. Shortly after deja vu is vuja de, which is a feeling of never experiencing something before...that is when the universes' paths differ. At this moment in one of Earth's parallel universes you may not be reading this fanfic and very much wishing you were. In another universe you may be reading this fanfic and wishing you weren't....etc. Anyway...assuming that any world can have a parallel universe this is what might go on in The Beast Wars' Parallel Universe. The characters are the same except for Arachnitron and Drifter. Arachnitron is a character I made for an RPG and I found her history so complicated, that the only way to tell it was to write a fanfic. The fanfic begins on Cybertron (hence the name) and eventually leaves you sort of hanging at the end. Although, I'm sure you could figure it out. Some of the events are the same (like I said Parallel Universe), however others didn't ever happen in the Beast Wars television series. So without further ado...what everyone has been waiting for.... here is Arachnitron's history.]

It Began On Cybertron  
Chapter One: The Orphan

"We have to do something about the Vok. They cannot meddle into Cybertron's affairs any longer," the Maximal who had been talking stopped suddenly. "What's that noise?" he asked. Quietly, I ducked behind the boxes that I was hiding behind. The nearest Maximal came over to me and lifted me up above the boxes. "What are you doing here, child?" he asked me.  
"I'm just playing," I said sweetly. I widened my green optics. The Maximal set me down and called the eldest one over.  
"She is not a Maximal, Jolt," he said to the eldest noting the Predacon symbol on my arm.  
"Well, we can't let her stay here," said Jolt. "Optimus Primal. Take her back to the Predacons." The one, who had lifted me out of my hiding place, called Optimus, took me by the hand and led me outside. I didn't know him, but just by hearing his name I knew that I didn't like him. I narrowed my optics in anger. He chuckled quietly. I pulled away.  
"Stop laughing at me," I whined. He chuckled some more and knelt to my eye level.  
"There are two types of laughing, Child. There is the kind where someone is teasing you and there is a friendly kind. I was laughing the friendly kind," he explained gently. I lowered my gaze and he took my hand again. He left me off with the nearest Predacon. "We found her wandering around on our side of the planet," he explained and quickly walked away. The Pred glared at me angrily.  
"You have some explaining to do. Just because you're descended from Arachnitron the Traitor doesn't mean you have to act like her. Now, what were you doing over there?" he asked me gruffly. I didn't understand everything he said, yes I was familiar with my descendant, but how had I been acting like her? I decided to ignore his comment and answer his question, which I understood.  
"I was pretending I was a spy," I told him innocently. He nodded thoughtfully. He took a deep breath.  
"If that's the way you want it then fine. Come with me." He pulled me to the spy training barracks where they immediately began my training at eight years old!  
At the training barracks for spies they paid close attention to me. I was never let out of anyone's sight. The Preds wanted to make sure I wouldn't stray to the Maximal's side and decide I wanted to stay over there. I was a prodigy and they had known I would learn quickly and be useful to their army.  
My training ended two years later when there was nothing else to teach me. The first year, training for me was like we were playing a game and I liked to play games. I won at games all the time although, I cheated to win sometimes and if I didn't win I cried and whined until whoever I was playing with decided I was the winner. The Preds did not like the way I cheated; I often played for the other team when things didn't go my way. The Predacons saw this as a sign that I would be a traitor to their kind, but they decided to leave it be; I was their best spy, but still too young to join their army. I was an orphan; orphaned at a young age and since I had nowhere to go they just sent me out into Cybertropolis when spy training was through. There was a big debate over it, some feared it would give me reason to betray the Predacons, but they didn't want to baby-sit either, so despite their concerns they let me run free. I behaved myself well in Cybertropolis because if I brought too much attention to myself I wouldn't be able to spy on other bots without getting noticed. Two weeks later I became bored with spying. There was no one interesting to spy on and nothing interesting for a ten-year-old child-bot to do. So I went on a rampage. I became a rebel and did major destruction to Cybertropolis' most honored buildings. I joined up with a group of orphaned Predacons with nothing to do and we destroyed Maximal monuments and set fire to Cybertropolis' buildings and history data disks. There was mass confusion among the Maximals in Cybertropolis. We sought refuge Underground in between raids.  
When we were finally caught six months later we were returned to the Preds who, with nothing else to do to control us, trained us all as warriors, in hopes they could teach us some discipline. They would've succeeded had it not been for me. I was their major problem. I had a very short attention span and became bored quickly. I was a born rebel and often refused to listen to what my elders were telling me. I was also a stealth expert and could sneak off quietly when I grew bored and then return later without anyone noticing I was gone. Hours after my return they'd hear of another monument that had burned and I'd be locked in my quarters. Of course, after a few weeks of being locked up I soon figured out an escape route. I was skilled in the art of lock picking and could release myself quickly and quietly. Soon, they needed a guard outside my quarters whenever I was inside. I artfully escaped and knocked the guard unconscious by giving him a taste of my lethal roundhouse kick. I could outsmart any of the other warriors and I was very well trained, even though I hadn't ever been to my lessons.  
Well, actually there was one warrior I couldn't outsmart. He was an experienced warrior and knew what I was going to do before I did it. I had yet to even get close enough to knock him out. He was instructed to discipline me himself and teach me "honor." The Predacons knew of his skill and believed they could trust him to put me in my place. I spent my twelfth birthday training all day with him. That is where the story really begins.   
His first words to me were unforgettable: "You are a well-trained warrior for being so young and I'm proud to know such a prodigy. But you are out of control and need to learn where you stand in the line of combat. They have catered to your whims for too long. I am surprised they put up with you for as long as they did." He stared me down with his red optics. He continued to lecture; I was standing behind him and had decided to sit on the ground quietly. I began dozing off and he must've known it. He turned around and glared at me. I opened my eyes when I felt his glare.   
"If you don't cooperate you will be confined to your quarters," he threatened.   
"I can get out you know," I replied sharply. He made a sound, which sounded a lot like a snarl.   
"Not with me on guard," he informed me. I narrowed my optics and stared him down. He did not drop his gaze, but instead continued to lecture all the while I stared right back. Then without a word to him, I stood up and walked away.   
"This will be a challenge." I heard him mutter as I walked away. He followed me and grabbed my arm. He spun me around and looked me in the optics. "Lesson one. When an elder is speaking, listen," he growled.   
"Tell me something I don't know and then maybe I'll listen," I said sassily.   
He thought that over for a little bit. Then replied: "If you pay attention to my lessons then I'll teach you something you don't know. BUT you have to be well behaved the entire time." I pulled away from him and walked away again.   
"I will not submit to your bribes," I stated. Again he tried to reason with me.   
"Rightly to be great is not to stir without great argument, but greatly to find quarrel in a straw when honor's at the stake," he called after me. I spun around.   
"What the slag is that supposed to mean?" I asked him.   
"It means that in order to be great you should not cause commotion without a cause, but you should quarrel immediately when someone challenges your honor," he explained. I walked away.   
"You're crazy," I said flatly. He snarled once again. This time he did not bother to reason with me instead he fired his lasers at my feet. I jumped to the side to avoid them when I heard the shot. I back-flipped to where he was standing. I gave him my infamous roundhouse kick and knocked him to the ground. He grinned slyly and chuckled to himself.   
"Wonderful reflexes. Your attack could be a little cleaner though," he informed me. Then he squatted, took my foot in his hands and pointed it for me. "Kicking someone with the tip of your toe will probably knock them out a lot quicker than if you kicked them with the flat of your foot," he explained. He let my foot drop to the ground. I was stunned. He walked back to the barracks and I too, followed solemnly to my quarters.  
So it went day after day. We'd go out for training and I'd listen for about a half an hour. Then I'd become bored, get up and leave and he'd try and reason with me, but would attack in frustration. Naturally I would counter attack and he would analyze my attack and correct it for me. Then we'd walk away solemnly. Eventually though, I grew accustumed to not getting my way. It took longer for me to grow bored and I would sometimes listen to his entire lesson. This however, was exactly what was supposed to happen.   
My trainer knew that I may have been incredibly smart, but I needed something tangible to hold and read in order to memorize my teachings. So he created for me a type of bible, a book filled with his lessons. He called it his 'Code of Hero.' He made me read it every night and learn one lesson for the next morning. I cherished that book. Honor had become my way of life.   
After working with him for about three months, I didn't grow bored quite as often, but I knew that when I did grow bored it was not warrior-like of me to get up and leave. So, I stayed and listened. My elders used to take me on mock missions to see how I followed orders also to see if I was ready for battlefield fighting. They found I still didn't know my place in the line of combat. I was much too smart for my own good and often found that some of their commands would not work. The first few missions I refused to obey them despite Honor. After a few weeks I obeyed even if I found their commands would not work, of course, I'd always be proven right. But then I went back to my old ways. I didn't completely disobey; I found a different approach to what they were doing as opposed to the command they gave me.   
When I was with my trainer though, I was under his control and would do anything for him. He taught me that my Honor should lay with the ones who brought me up, the Predacons, and I should follow their teachings no matter what my elders did. I looked up to my trainer and I trained with him for a year.   
One day, he had me run an errand for him. I was to fetch him some enerjon. The scientists on Cybertron were going to study it and I was going to deliver it to them, but he wanted to examine it first. While I was walking through the halls to leave the base I passed a room with a bunch of bots inside having a heated discussion about something.   
"We have to do something about her. Where is she?" asked one.   
"Fetching enerjon," said my trainer. I stopped dead at the sound of his voice and stood behind the door to listen.  
"We can not continue to watch her all the time," someone else said.   
"Just give me some more time with her. I'm the only one who can control her. Look at her progress after only a year. Give her another year and I'm sure she'll change to your liking," my trainer begged.   
"Don't be a Maximal," said another. "She will slow the Predacons down and-"   
"She's one of our best warriors!" argued my trainer.   
"A warrior does not question their commands. They follow their leader. She on the other hand wants to do everything her own way. I should have seen it coming when she was younger."   
"She's only a child. She's not even old enough to join the army, why does it matter?"   
"Face it, she must be eliminated." I turned around and ran down the hall and out the door to fetch the enerjon.   
I came back a little under an hour later and walked up to my trainer. He was sitting alone in his quarters with his head lowered. He sighed and looked up as I came slowly into the room. His face showed shame of not having done his job correctly.   
"I have your enerjon, Trainer," I replied and he smiled.   
"Thank you, Child," he said not revealing a hint of what his face showed. He took the enerjon from me and placed it on one of the tables. He stood up and motioned for me to follow. "Someone wants to speak with you," he said.   
I followed silently not telling him I heard it all. We walked to a room with a huge machine in it used for extracting sparks and I swallowed hard. My trainer's optics got wide and he shook his head. He bent down to my eye-level. He looked as if he was going to be sick, but he spoke to me. "Adieu, Adieu, remember me," he said and put a hand on my head. I looked at him confused. "I won't be here when they're finished talking to you." I nodded and he turned to leave. I guess he didn't think I knew I was going to die and couldn't remember him anyway.   
Silently, the procedure began and a tall bot motioned me to get up on the table. I did and he strapped me down. He aligned the machine where my spark was and he started it. I took a deep breath as a sharp pain was sent thrashing through my body. A blood-curdling scream escaped from my throat and I grasped the sides of the table tightly. And then it was all over.


End file.
